Indelible
by ten million fireflies
Summary: Because there is always that person that you just can't forget. For Rachel Elizabeth Dare, that person is Percy Jackson. An exploration of the relationship between a certain red-haired mortal and green-eyed demigod. One-sided Perachel. Slightly AU.
1. Beginnings

**indelible**_ (adjective)_

_1. (of ink or a pen) making marks that cannot be erased_

_2. not able to be forgotten or removed _

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><p>From the moment Rachael Elizabeth Dare meets Perseus Jackson, she knows she will never forget him.<p>

She is thirteen, on a vacation she doesn't want to be on with parents who don't care, and will never care, and quite frankly she doesn't _want _them to care. They try to appease her with a trip to Hoover Dam but she grows so sick of their uppity criticism of anyone and everyone in sight that she escapes as soon as possible.

She is in the midst of searching for a bathroom, and her mind is pulsing with anger and her lime green Converse are pounding the pavement, and her nose is running so she whips out a Kleenex from her jeans pocket when suddenly she hears footsteps that are not her own, and she whips around, her red hair flying and _why is there a bronze sword sticking out of the center of her chest?_

She looks around. Her green eyes widen and time seems to freeze, and vaguely she registers that there are _several _things she could be terrified of right now.

One is the massive army of dead-or are they dead?- skeletal creatures that are rapidly approaching and _what the heck are those things anyway? _

A second is the fact that no one seems to notice aforementioned skeletal army, which means they're another of her terrifying visions.

And a third is the wild-eyed black-haired boy who is currently removing a bronze sword from the center of her chest and finds it completely one hundred percent normal that she's not hurt at all.

She begins to scream at him, because _honestly _you can't just go swinging swords around at people, and then she begins to ask questions, because just who is this kid and why is he carrying a sword, and why didn't it hurt her and really, what the heck are those skeleton things?

He attempts some sort of hypnosis on her (it fails, of course, her therapists have tried this crap for _years_ so she's quite used to resisting, not that his actually works) and she begins to notice a steadily growing panic in his eyes- eyes, she realizes, that are sea-green, just like hers- and all of a sudden she registers that whatever these skeletal things are, he can see them too and she is not alone.

Either they're both insane- a definite possibility, she admits- or what she's seeing is real, and the second is enough to convince her that she should probably help this green-eyed black-haired boy, whoever he is.

"Bathroom!" she shouts as the skeletal things come even closer, and she shoves the boy into the bathroom behind her- later, she affirms that it thankfully was a men's restroom- and the skeletal things come to a screeching halt in front of her and she realizes that now she really is alone because besides that boy _no one else can see them _and holy crap they're even more terrifying up close.

But she stands her ground, and this, Rachel Elizabeth Dare supposes, must be what courage feels like, because she knows no matter what she _has to help this boy. _

So she does what she does best- start rambling on as quickly and loudly as possible until they leave her alone out of sheer annoyance.

"Did you _see_ that kid? It's about time you got here. He tried to kill me! He had a sword, for god's sake. You security guys let a sword-swinging lunatic inside a national landmark? I mean, jeez! He ran that way toward those turbine thingies. I think he went over the side or something. Maybe he fell."

The skeletal things leave- she thanks whatever gods exist- and it's then she realizes that she is trembling. She checks that the scene is clear, and with shaking hands she opens the bathroom door and lets the boy out.

"Do yourself a favor," he says, trembling nearly as much as she. "Forget it. Forget you ever saw me."

It's later that she realizes that this is impossible. She cannot possibly forget him.

She has already memorized the sweep of his ebony hair, the color of the sea that flows through his eyes, the crazed expression on his face, his name (though she doubts it is entirely real, because who would name a child _Percy Gotta-go?_), and the fact that he is the one person she has met in her thirteen years on this planet who sees what she sees, this imaginary world- or is it imaginary?- that lies beneath the surface of reality.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare will not forget this boy, whoever he really is. Somehow, she knows he has the answers to her never-ending questions. He is embedded into her mind, an indelible image that cannot be erased.

She is daydreaming, sitting in the back of a private jet on a flight back to Manhattan, and she inks into her jeans a picture of a green-eyed boy with a bronze sword and a whole lot of courage.

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><p><em>This is the Taylor Swift song, so to speak, of my fic collection, in that it is in some manner a reflection of my life. Dedicated to a boy who will never read this. <em>_For something you probably care about a little more, this will be multi-chaptered, kind of an exploration of Rachel's feelings and relationship with Percy throughout the last two books of the original series and beyond. TLH and SoN will be disregarded, updates will be sporadic, reviews will be greatly appreciated. _


	2. Six Months and a Moment

_Thanks to all that reviewed last chapter. You truly have no idea how much I appreciate it :) This chapter is short, but I wanted to post it before my midyear finals hit their peak and I have no time left to write. Please note that all dialogue so far in this story is Rick Riordan's, from TTC and BOTL respectively. Enjoy and review if you wish._

_I disclaim. _

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><p>A month goes by, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare develops two theories.<p>

One, that this Percy whoever is merely a figment of her already overactive imagination, just another one of her unreal visions, and she never actually met him- she was merely hallucinating. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes how likely it is. The thought depresses her.

Her second theory is that he is real, is out there somewhere, and has all the answers she needs. But this is so unlikely that she prefers not to dwell on that hope.

Another month goes by, and those green eyes of his begin to pop up in her dreams now and then. She tosses and turns in paint-splattered sheets and fights his face out of her mind even though she knows it's not going anywhere.

Three months. Her parents are now convinced that she is mentally disturbed- as if that wasn't already the case- but Rachel has almost convinced herself of this too. Her dreams are haunted by monsters more horrific than she's ever imagined, and it would almost be okay if the monsters were confined to her dreams, but they're not. She sees them in real life, too, and while suffering through a torturous therapy session her mother forced her into, she stares out the window and wishes she could talk to that boy instead.

Four months pass, then five, and Rachel has almost resigned herself to the fact that even in the unlikely event that Percy Gotta-go is a real human being, the odds are she will never see him again anyway, so it's best to forget and go on with life as usual. So she goes through her routine and copes with the monsters by painting them onto a canvas and out of her memory.

If only she could do that with the boy.

Six months now. She climbs the steps of Goode High School- a school she selected, not her parents, thank God- for freshman orientation in June, and turns around to ask a teacher for directions to the gym and instead catches a glimpse of the face she's tried so hard to forget.

From the moment Rachael Elizabeth Dare sees Perseus Jackson climbing the steps of Good High, she feels hope for the first time since December.

She also feels a sprig of annoyance, because after all the last time she saw him he _did _try to kill her a mere thirty seconds before she saved his life.

In her split second of joy and shock she loses sight of him, and a kindly teacher with salt-and-pepper hair points her in the direction of the gym. Quickly she races down the linoleum-floored hallways, green Converse squeaking against the tile, and bursts into the gym. Her eyes scan the bleachers, and she pushes her way through the masses of future freshmen.

Finally, she spots him again, that black hair and goofy grin, and she yanks on his arm and whips him around to face her.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, because a figment of her imagination has no place in her future high school, of all places.

The boy's eyes widen in terror, as if he's facing those skeleton things from Hoover Dam again, she notes with amusement, and he speaks three words.

"Rachael Elizabeth Dare."

She's shocked he remembers her name but even more shocked that he's actually standing in front of her. The first thing that comes to her mind is that she needs answers, and she needs them now.

"And you're Percy somebody. I didn't get your full name last December when you tried to _kill _me." A full name would be nice, Rachel decides, because Gotta-go really is a ridiculous surname, and she can't very well keep thinking of him as 'the boy.'

"Look, I wasn't-I didn't-" he sputters out, face red. "What are _you_ doing here?"

A bit of disappointment springs up in her because someone _this _dense can't possibly have the answers to all her questions, but it disappears just as quickly because he exists and he's here and that's enough for Rachel.

"Same as you, I guess. Orientation," she replies.

"You live in New York?" the boy asks.

Yep. _Definitely_ too dense. "What, you thought I lived at Hoover Dam?" She narrows her eyes at him. Whoever this kid is, he's slowly slipping lower and lower from her daydreamed standard.

Some kid shushes them, and her green-eyed glare intensifies because she's waited six months for her answers and not only is the boy who was supposed to provide them incredibly obtuse, he wasn't even paying attention to her anymore. She follows his gaze to see what's distracting him and _Lord have mercy not again. _

Dressed in the Goode cheerleading uniforms are two of the most hideous creatures she's ever seen, with bronze legs and donkey's legs and sickly white paper-think skin and fangs like a serpents'. And- and they're looking right at _him, _and smiling in away that makes Rachel wants to vomit and scream in terror at the same time.

She allows herself three fleeting seconds of panic, ignoring the snickers of her future classmates, before realizing that it's about time she saves Percy whoever's life again.

From this moment on, Rachel Elizabeth Dare realizes that's about to become quite the repeating pattern.

"Run. NOW!" she hisses in Percy's ear, and she doesn't wait for him to follow before she takes her own advice and gets the heck out of there. Rachel ignores the frowns and reprimands of disapproving teachers and the grumbles of pushed-aside kids as she tears her way out of the gymnasium and down the hall, searching for an unlocked classroom to hide in. She ends up busting her way into the music room and crouching behind a giant bass drum she hopes is monster-proof.

Minutes later Percy appears in the door, looking just as breathless as she.

"Get over here!" she shouts in hushed tones. "Keep your head down!" The boy obeys- finally he does something right- and squats down beside her, behind a set of bongos.

She hears the pounding footsteps of the cheerleader-zombies and hopes this black-haired-green eyed boy has as much courage as she remembers.


	3. Hope and Impending Doom

_*clears throat awkwardly* Hello there everyone! ...it hasn't actually been a month since I've updated, has it? I sincerely apologize for the delay; this was a difficult chapter to write and due to homework and tests and the like I wasn't able to work on it for a while. But I have warned you already and will again: my updating is not regular in any way, shape, or form. But to make up for it this chapter is nearly twice as long as Indelible's usually are. _

_To clear up something that has been mentioned in reviews, about the Perachel in this story: Ultimately this story will follow canon pairings. I'm not going to say that the Perachel will remain completely one-sided throughout the whole story, because if you read BotL and TLO carefully, that's not the case._ _I'm trying to stick close to canon whenever possible. __Hopefully that answers any questions._

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter and also those who have commented on my other stories. Hearing your opinions makes my day :) _

_Unusually long AN aside, I disclaim the following. All dialogue is Rick's. Enjoy and review if you so desire._

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><p>Rachel Elizabeth Dare decides there are approximately three minutes and forty-five seconds until her and Percy's impending doom- honestly, he can't be expecting her to save his life again, and he doesn't seem to have brought that terrifying spear thing with him today. She also decides that if she is indeed going to die in three minutes and forty-five seconds, it's as good a time as any to get some answers.<p>

First and foremost: how accurate is her estimated life span? "Did they follow you?" she asks Percy abruptly.

"You mean the cheerleaders?" he replies. _If that's what you want to call them. _She nods anxiously, awaiting his answer. "I don't think so," he says.

She breathes a short-lived sigh of relief, and the rapid pounding of her heart slows a bit, then realizes that the footsteps from outside the door have quieted- hopefully, the cheerleader-monsters are looking in all the wrong places. Perhaps it's more like six minutes and forty-five seconds of life remaining?

"What are they?" Percy's voice brings her back from her brief reverie. "What did you see?"

And her heart starts pounding again. Shouldn't he know? Shouldn't he be seeing what she sees, just like at Hoover Dam? Now she's unsure whether to answer, unsure if the black-haired green-eyed boy sitting next to her is the same black-haired green-eyed boy that's haunted her dreams since December.

She knows he won't believe her if she tells him what she saw. No one else ever has.

Then again, no one else ever has tried to kill her with a bronze weapon while sprinting away from zombie skeleton things at Hoover Dam.

"You…you wouldn't believe me," she finally mumbles out.

"Oh, yeah I would," Percy replies, unexpectedly. She grins, despite the clear and present danger. "I know you can see through the Mist."

Smile gone. Once again, she has no idea what he's talking about. "The what?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

"The Mist. It's…" he struggles for an answer. She tries not to judge- he did just say he believes her-but those cheerleader-monsters could come in any minute, and he seems to be taking an awfully long time to answer what seems to her a very simple question.

"…well, it's like this veil that hides the way things really are," he finally concludes. "Some mortals are born with the ability to see through it. Like you."

_Mortals. _Strange word choice, unless…

"You did that at Hoover Dam. You called me a mortal." She takes him in, bright green eyes scanning over his rather scrawny frame. "Like you're not." _Just who -or what- is this kid? _

He stays silent. Rachel feels the first chance she's ever had at answers to her messed up life slowly slipping through her fingers.

"Tell me," she pleads. After seeing him again, she know she won't be able to convince herself a second time that he doesn't exist- not that it ever really worked to begin with. And she_ needs _to know what these visions are that she sees, these monsters and forces that seem horribly strange but at the same time horribly familiar.

"You know what it means," she says, looking straight into his eyes, eyes that match her own. "All these horrible things I see?"

Percy hesitates, and she's about three seconds away from begging when he finally speaks up. "Look, this is going to sound weird." _Try me, pal. _"Do you know anything about the Greek myths?"

She feels comprehension start to settle in but all of a sudden she's terrified to let it, terrified to know if her worst nightmares aren't really nightmares at all. Her heart pounds in double-time and she struggles to keep her mind clear and calm. _Surely he can't mean…_

"Like…the Minotaur and the Hydra?" she asks, testing the waters.

"Yeah, just try not to say those names when I'm around, okay?" His green eyes dart nervously around the room, but thankfully there's no sign of the cheerleader…things yet.

"And the Furies," she continues. Her heart pounds in triplets now. Tri-puh-let trip-uh-let. "And the Sirens, and-"

"Okay!" He cuts her off, a look of panic on his face, but there's no time to wonder why. "All those monsters," Percy says, his voice dropped a few decibels, "all the Greek gods- they're real."

And the world stops.

She's heard it said that life is made of moments-moments that may or may not seem significant at the time, but somehow, someway, they alter life's course forever, and drastically. These are the moments that you reflect on years later, that always cause you to question "what if?", that shine ever brightly out of a lifetime of memories.

Right here, right now, she is living one of those moments. And from the moment Rachel Elizabeth Dare is told the truth by Perseus Jackson, she is halfway aware that her life will never be the same.

"I knew it!" she almost shrieks, embarrassed by her own surprise. Because now that she finally has her answer, she realizes she's known the truth all along. Perhaps she was scared of it; perhaps she hadn't fully registered the knowledge. Either way, she's suddenly aware that this is what she's been expecting.

The Greek myths. Real. It's a nightmare taking shape in reality, but from the way Percy talks, it seems like it could almost be a dream in reality too.

"You don't know how hard it's been," she tells him, recalling long childhood nights of terrifying dreams with parents she couldn't go to for comfort. For them to be comforting, they'd have to care. And they didn't. "For years I thought I was going crazy. I couldn't tell anybody. I couldn't-" The boy is giving her a strange look and all of a sudden she realizes there's one answer she's missing. "Wait. Who are you? I mean _really?_"

"I'm not a monster," Percy answers. _Thank you, Captain Obvious. _

"Well, I know that. I could _see_ if you were. You look like…you." _And a very cute 'you', _she refrains from adding. "But you're not human, are you?"

"I'm a half-blood," he replies, and she wishes she know what he meant but once again she has no clue. "I'm half-human."

"And half what?" she asks, genuinely curious. Percy opens his mouth to reply, but not soon enough, because the monster cheerleaders are bursting into the room, the doors are slamming shut and locking Rachel and Percy inside, and suddenly Rachel realizes she's been so wrapped up in talking to the "half-blood" that she hasn't been listening for footsteps and oh, how dearly she's about to pay for her lack of focus.

Her three minutes and forty-five seconds are up, she realizes, and the impending doom is rapidly approaching.

"They're horrible!" she gasps, taking in their terrifying forms once gain. She's almost wishing she had never talked to Percy and could just write them off as a crazy vision, accepting her own insanity.

But now, she has to face the fact that this is her new reality, and from this moment on Rachel Elizabeth Dare realizes just how hard that's going to be.

Ten minutes later, the monsters are gone but she's covered in some sort of sawdust and standing in the middle of a burning school. She hears a teacher yell at Percy- "What have you done?" Kids are screaming, the fire alarm is wailing, and the ceiling sprinkles spring into action and she finds herself not only smothered in sawdust but also soaking wet. Freaking fantastic, this new life of hers is.

But once again her instincts to protect Percy kicks in and she realizes he could be blamed for all of this and even expelled, so she tugs on the singed sleeve of his T-shirt and hisses, "You have to get out of here!"

He nods, then sprints across the room and jumps out of the now-broken window. Then, registering she too could be expelled for this mess- setting the school on fire is generally frowned upon- she decides to make a run for it too. She squeezes her way through the crowds trying to remain unnoticed and heads for a more civilized form of exit, the back door.

She charges out, sprinting down the back alley, and her hair is flying behind her and she's gulping in the fresh air, thankful for the lack of smoke, and her lime green Converse are pounding against the sidewalk, when suddenly-

There's Percy. Safe and alive, thank God- gods?- but with a _girl. _A cute, blonde girl. A girl he's _hugging_.

Rachel feels a split second of jealousy, followed by a split second of anger at herself. What is she doing? She barely knows him! She has no right to be jealous of a girl she's never met, a girl who for all she knows could be his girlfriend- but she shudders at the thought and that annoys her. She should be grateful to be alive, grateful to _him _that she's alive, not viewing this unknown blonde as competition for the affections of someone she's hardly talked to, regardless of whether or not he's changed her life and Rachel can't get him out of her head no matter how hard she tries. Because that's her problem. Not Blondie's.

Still, she chases him down, shouting "Percy, wait up!" Because Rachel Elizabeth Dare has never been one to give up easily.

Blondie frowns as Rachel approaches, and she tries not to be intimidated by the girl's steely-eyed glare that's ten times more terrifying than the cheerleader monsters or the zombie-things from the Dam.

Percy hastily makes an introduction: "Oh, Rachel- Annabeth." _Annabeth, _she mentally files away on her "People That Annoy Me Simply By Existing" list, giving her the spot below her parents and right above Justin Bieber.

"Annabeth-Rachel. Um, she's a friend. I guess," he finishes, and for the first time Rachel fully appreciates the irony that though she and Percy haven't even really be introduced, they've been in two life-or-death situations together. And she can't stop thinking about him. But again, that's her problem. Not anyone else's

"Hi," Rachel says to Annabeth, giving her the smile she reserves for friends of her parents and other people she really can't stand. By the ever-unrelenting grey-eyed glare, she can tell that Annabeth sees right through it. But she chooses not to care and instead turns to Percy.

"You are in _so _much trouble," she says to him, verging on the line between annoyed and amused. "And you still owe me an explanation!"

Police sirens are wailing in the background and Annabeth tries to drag Percy away, but she plows on. "I want to know more about half-bloods!" Here she is thinking she's got all her answers at last, when she doesn't even fully understand what exactly Percy is. "And monsters. And this stuff about the gods."

In a split-second decision, she digs a Sharpie out of her back pocket and etches her phone number onto Percy's hand, almost relishing Annabeth's irate expression then once again becoming annoyed with her own inexplicable jealousy. "You're going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that," she demands. "Now get going."

She turns to leave, and when Percy calls out, she replies, 'I'll make up some story." Because somehow she will. "I'll tell them it wasn't you're fault." Because really, it wasn't. "Just go!" she yells, finally, because as much as this Annabeth girl annoys her and as much as she hates to see him go, his safety is more important and her instincts tell her he won't be safe here much longer.

She jogs away and doesn't let herself look back until she's sure Percy and his- his _friend-_are long gone. It's then that she turns around and stares at the empty sidewalk.

It's strange, this sudden emptiness she feels.

But the emptiness is gone, almost as soon as it appeared, as she replays their brief conversation in her head.

The Greek gods. Real. Someone who can explain them to her. Also real.

She turns back towards the school and begins to walk back inside what remains of the band room- she has to explain this to the administration somehow. She misses him beside her but smiles when she remembers the smell of Sharpie and the feel of his hand in hers.

Because Rachel has given him her number, and in return this black-haired green-eyed boy has given her hope, a real, genuine, indelible hope that she hasn't felt in far too long.


	4. Silent Phones and Grey Eyed Glares

_I disclaim. A/N at the bottom this time. Enjoy._

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><p>She starts to believe she'll never see him again.<p>

It's been weeks, weeks and weeks since their chance meeting and subsequent fight for their lives at freshman orientation, and despite the fact that Percy Jackson now has Rachel Elizabeth Dare's phone number Sharpied onto his hand, she has yet to receive a phone call.

So much for hope and answers.

She has so many questions, still, that need to be answered. Why can she see the monsters? She isn't a half-blood- at least, she thinks she isn't. Which god is Percy related to? Why were the empousai threatening him, and what was that camp they mentioned? Are there other people like Percy?

And most importantly- what next? What is she supposed to do with her life, now that she knows these horrors she sees are real? Live the rest of her life surrounded by people who think she's insane? Can Percy help her? In anyway- at all?

She wishes she could ask him, that he would call her, and Rachel regrets daily not asking for his number as well. She's almost terrified-whenever she's seen him, he's been in the midst of fighting for his life. What if this is the one time he didn't get lucky?

Her phone remains silent, and though Rachel keeps her eyes peeled for black hair, green eyes, and train-wreck bravery, Percy's nowhere to be found.

It would be bad enough, not seeing or hearing from him in what seems like forever, if her last image of him _wasn't_ Percy being towed away by that all-too-pretty blonde friend of his…Annabeth, wasn't it? Rachel had no idea who she was, but something in the grey-eyed steely glare of hers told Rachel that Annabeth considered Percy Jackson _her _property- trespassers not welcome.

She paints a picture of the two as she last remembers them, admires the accuracy of her work, then proceeds to whip out a pocketknife and slash an x right through the painting. It's a strange sort of satisfaction she feels afterwards.

Rachel knew it was stupid and petty, to be hateful towards a girl she had never really met. For all she knew, Annabeth could be Percy's girlfriend- the thought makes Rachel sick with jealousy, and that irritates her. Green with envy doesn't look good on redheads, she knows, so she tries to put the thought out of her mind.

The fact is, though, the more she thinks about him, the more Percy Jackson becomes a bit more than an answer key in her mind. Because not only does he know everything there is to know about this second world she sees, he's also- well, cute. Cute and charming and confident and brave and a bit obtuse but in a lovable way, and Rachel had stopped believing in Prince Charmings until he came along.

She ponders this through six weeks solid of silent phones and desperate hoping, and she's almost started to think he's dead. During the day, she wanders around the city, sketching couples and families in Central Park and riding the subway aimlessly to avoid her parents. She spots a chimera or two boarding the ferry to Staten Island, a few empousai on Fifth Avenue, but she keeps her head low- there's no one there to protect her this time. She ignores the unusual dark clouds surrounding the Empire State Building and firmly tells herself that there are no such thing as flying horses, so there's no way that was a Pegasus she saw in the sky, right?

In the afternoon, she paints her thoughts onto canvases and ignores the knocks on her door and fake concern from her parents, and after six weeks, she's got quite the collection. There's a watercolor of Percy running across Hoover Dam, an acrylic of Percy spotting her on the steps of Goode Academy, a chalk of herself and Percy fighting the empousai, a pencil sketch of the two of them on the bleachers, the aforementioned destroyed painting of Percy and Annabeth, and so many more.

At night, she tosses and turns and dreams of wanderings in underground mazes, a gleaming bronze sword and darkness illuminated by green eyes, an explosion and blinding pain and an island that matches paradise.

And then, one afternoon, her phone rings with a call from an unknown number.

She almost passes out when she hears his voice.

"Percy?" she says, hardly daring to believe it. This can't possibly be real.

"Yeah, it's me. Hi, Rachel," he responds. She pictures him smiling on the other end of the line, and her heart jumps with glee. Then, she remembers he disappeared from the face of the planet for six weeks without bothering to call and decides to let him have it.

"Where the heck have you been?" she shouts into the phone. "Six freaking weeks ago I gave you my number and asked you to call me and what do you do? You freaking disappear. Like it's totally okay to tell someone the Greek gods are real and then explain absolutely _nothing._ And then you freaking disappeared! And you _never _bothered to call me! Percy, I- I thought you were dead!"

"You're not alone in that." He sighs. "Look, it's a long story, and I'm sorry, okay? But look, I really need your help. I can't explain now, phones and half-bloods don't really mix well, but can we meet somewhere?"

And with those words she completely forgets her anger at him- the possibility of actually getting to see him far outweighs the six weeks of silence.

"I'm not sure what exactly I can help you with, because you still haven't exactly explained to me what's going on-"

"Rachel, I-"

"But I'm not gonna make you beg, so sure. I'll be in Times Square tomorrow. Two o'clock. I'll see you there."

"Times Square. Got it."

There's a moment of silence, and Rachel isn't sure what else to say. What do you say, to someone you barely know but saved your life twice, and vice versa, but whom you haven't actually spoken to in weeks?

He clears his throat, breaking up the awkward silence. "And Rachel? Thanks."

_Click._ And he's gone. Again. But this time, it's just a see you later. Not a goodbye.

The next afternoon finds Rachel in Times Square, standing on the sidewalk completely covered in gold, posed like a statue for her Urban Art for Kids fundraiser. Being still for so long gives her plenty of time to search the crowd and look for Percy's black hair and green eyes.

When she finally spots him, a few minutes before her shift is set to end, her heart leaps.

Only to sink just as quickly when she realizes he's not alone.

Rachel knows she should have expected it, really, but she can't help but feel that familiar pang of irrational jealousy when she spots _that blonde girl_ with Percy. Annabeth's arm is linked through his, and to anyone else, the two would look like the average couple, sightseeing tourists strolling through Times Square. Just an average couple.

Maybe they really were. The thought scares her.

Her break ends, and she eagerly leaves the fundraiser and walks over to Percy. Annabeth, of course, shoots her the patented grey-eyed glare, but Rachel ignores it. She's going to have to get used to that.

"Hey, Percy," she greets him. "Good timing! Let's get some coffee."

He smiles at her, and she leads the two over towards her favorite coffee shop, Java Moose on West 43rd. She's not really a Starbucks girl- far too average. Inwardly, she smiles when she notices Annabeth's dropped Percy's arm and is now walking behind them, somewhat awkwardly.

She makes small talk with Percy until the three reach Java Moose, where she orders her favorite espresso drink and goes over to the counter to add cream and a bit of sugar, still wondering at her good fortune. After so long without contact, she can't believe she's here, at a coffee shop with Percy Jackson.

And Annabeth and her freaking grey-eyed glare. She tries to ignore that minor detail.

But from the moment Rachel Elizabeth Dare notices the smile on Percy's face when Annabeth automatically slides in next to him at their booth, she knows she's fighting a losing battle.

She pursues him anyway. Because Rachel Elizabeth Dare's never been one to be intimidated by any glare, no matter how steely and grey-eyed, and after six weeks of silent phones there's no way she's giving up this easily.

* * *

><p><em>(This will be lengthy, I apologize in advance.) So I could give a long list of excuses why I haven't updated in two months, but I did warn you that updates would be sporadic and irregular. In a nutshell, it's nearing the end of the school year and tests and papers and such are therefore piling up, and I also was involved in my school musical-a huge time commitment. In addition, I rather lost my inspiration for this story. <strong>Thankfully,<strong> said inspiration has been recently rediscovered and _Indelible _is back! Writing has proved a rather pleasant break from studying for finals, so I will try to have the next chapter up in a week or so. No guarantees, but I'll do my best._

_For those of you who are interested, I am currently working on two oneshots (one Percabeth, one Piper/Leo) that will hopefully be finished in the next couple of weeks. Keep an eye out!_

_Hope you enjoyed this chapter of _Indelible_, despite its brevity. Your reviews are sincerely appreciated!_


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